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I remember, at that time, I looked into his eyes and I saw the most beautiful thing in the world. I won't say that I got lost in them, or that I dived into those hues of his and sunk further and further into them the more I looked, but I won't say those things are untrue either. The main thing is, when I looked into them, I saw the universe. The light shone off them like stars, the darkness caused them to look like the night sky. The intensity of his eyes pulled me closer, as though he were Earth and I were the moon, unable to escape his gravitational pull. I saw things that made me feel a sense of unfamiliarity, yet also I felt as though I had seen these very same eyes before. Maybe I had. That would explain the safety I felt around him, at the very least. It took me a long time to realise that I would never see anything as breathtaking as his eyes again. It also took me a long time to realise that what I felt, why I believed his eyes to be something so captivating, was because I... I loved him. Yes, it was obvious. I felt like the most idiotic person in the world, but it was okay. I was a fool, alright, but I was a fool in love, so I was okay with it. Too bad I only realised this after he was gone. After he had been gone for years.
The next time I saw those eyes, they weren't the same. They were hard, similar to steel, just as his entire face was. Stoic. Cold. The chilling sensation I received when I saw them and remembered how they used to always overcome my entire body, and I felt as though I should shiver. Dark... As dark as obsidian, or perhaps the bottom of an unexplorable abyss, too huge to see the bottom of. Sinking is what I felt, unlike the sinking I felt before, for now it was not the night that made his eyes dark, they simply were. No longer did they show the stars, or the serenity of the sky, or the shimmering of the sun's light. In fact, they had become somewhat menacing... As had he. His gaze was strong now. It was impossible for it to crack. I suppose that was fitting, as it was impossible for the mask he held over his face to crack as well. His smiles which I used to see no matter the situation never occurred anymore, his expressions making him look much older than he was, his entire façade hiding the truly vulnerable boy underneath. I didn't believe for one second that he was this man, and yet he made it hard to resist believing it. He treated me as though I were a stranger, and though he tolerated me and was not necessarily insulting, he was harsh. Harsh like a river's current, causing each and every rock to become smooth, unless the river carried too much, in which it would drop all the stones it carried without a moment's notice. Perhaps he had forgotten me, but the small glimmer in his eyes, which was almost invisible, told me he hadn't. He pushed me away, and yet I still loved him.
They say that eyes are the window to the soul, and I believed that, as I could always understand his emotions just by glancing at them. Yes, I understood the rest of his body language too, even when he had become a stiff, calculating man, but his eyes were like a book which the youngest of children could read, at least to me. Under it all, I could still read them like an elegant poem, and though he had changed so much in such little time, his absolute beauty and grace continued to remind me of a captivating musical piece, which changed from smooth to harsh, and yet still caused the musician to sway with it.
Over time, however, his eyes became warmer, softer... Maybe he started to love me as I loved him. The issue was, although they no longer caused me to freeze when I met them, they still retained the guardedness that he had obtained. The walls that he had put up were almost impenetrable, it seemed, and soon the small amount of emotion I could still read from behind them had disappeared. I could no longer see his soul.
I'm not sure about what his eyes held those days. People often told me that he was in love with me, as he often gazed at me as though I were the most important thing in the world to him. I blushed, of course, but I felt stupid for doing so. I didn't believe them. Yet, a while later, they would say it again. That he stared at me like I were his universe, his everything. According to them, I was now his melody, his wonderful poems, even the fresh air that was left after it rained, and the way the world looked after it snowed and the sun rose. Maybe I was. I seriously doubted it though... How would I know, since I could no longer tell what he was thinking. It used to be me who could understand everything about how he was feeling, though now I seemed to be the only one who couldn't.
They all insisted, and for a fleeting moment I believed them, but then I remembered that he was meant to be my world, not the other way around. I loved him more than anything and I just wished he felt the same. That's the only reason why what they said manifested itself in my head. Everything I thought, it was just wishful thinking, it was impossible.
I wasn't sad about this. I suppose I just felt some kind of slightly melancholy acceptance. I wanted nothing more than to hold him, to see a blush rise to his face softly like when the clouds are painted pink, and to speckle his entire face with kisses, as though they were freckles that were from the glowing sun. That was because he was like the sun to me. I never expected it to happen, though, as people say freckles are caused by kisses from angels, and I have always been far from ever being an angel.
I wish I could go back to the time I could refer to him as simply a boy I knew, who just so happened to be my best friend, instead of believing him to be the love of my life. I'm quite grateful that I fell for him, someone so strong and yet so weak. Someone so handsome and yet sometimes so... Undesirable. To others at least. I could never not desire him. So noble and yet not. Someone so caring and yet guarded. I'm so glad it was him who I fell in love with. Not only am I glad that with one look into his eyes, I knew he was special, I will forever be so grateful for the fact that I saw him and fell in love with him, out of the billions of people in this busy world full of love at first sight.
Simply being in his presence was enough for me, for a time. Being around him brought me everlasting joy. Of course, I continued to wish I could have more. I wished that I could brush back his hair, or embrace him gently with all the love I still have for him, and the comfort I could offer him, I wished I could stay with him at night and protect him from his nightmares as he had always protected me from my sadness, and I wished that I could take care of him when he forgot to take care of himself. I still wish these things, but at the same time, I wish that I didn't.
I... Can't even describe how much I love him. I just can't decide if I love him too much or not enough. Even after all this time, I can't decide on this one thing. I long to be with him, yet it seems like he doesn't have any interest in me. Do I love him more than I should? Or less than anyone in the world should? I ask myself these questions a lot. I never seem to feel like I'm enough, but I also feel like I'm too much. After all, he deserves the entire universe and nothing less, but isn't it strange for me to think these things?
I can't help but run from it. I can't help but distance myself from him, these days. Maybe he wonders why, but he probably doesn't. I hope I'm not hurting him. I hope I'm not making him feel alone, or abandoned, or, God forbid, upset, I just wish for him to be happy, and I don't want to get in the way. What if he found someone and my jealousy caused their relationship to fail? Or it ruined our growing friendship and tarnished his memories of our history together with nothing but hatred, since he had realised how I really am?
I try to convince myself that this is the reason, but truly, it's because I am scared. I'm terrified. Of what? That I see so much in those eyes of his, and I always have. My love for them has never faltered, nor has my love for him. That's not really what I am afraid of though.
I'm afraid that when he looks into mine, instead of believing they are beautiful, he will only see his reflection.